Ode to Stephen Court

There is still life in the burnt out three floors of Stephen Court, which underwent a test by blazing fire that went on for over 12 hours. There were hundreds of men and women standing a few yards from the building were as helpless as many of the government officials, who seemed to have been maimed by the raging flames. Even as several men and women were charred to death inside the building, the modern generation watching the fire pulled out their cellular phones to catch the moment. There were no room for the bravehearts to venture into the building to salvage the few people who were caught inside. I was one such mute witness to the loss of over 50 persons in the fire.

The remnants of the fire are still to be cleared from the burnt floors, and every day as I pass by the building during my evening walk, I can recollect the fateful day. Whatever be the social status, religion or cultural group of the residents of this old building, one thing was sure: human greed knows no bounds. If only the administrators had paid a little more attention to proper and timely maintenance of the facilities, so many persons would not have been charred to death. The building still stands as a mute witness to human wickedness and greed; is this the way how nature tries to teach the human beings a lesson for life?

I was also able to witness the number of people of the city pouring in to the building and its neighborhood to console and comfort the survivors of the fire. There were many groups who organized prayer meetings and candlelight procession in honor of the people who had lost their lives and their dear ones. There were many posters posted on the entrance to the fateful building, many of which portrayed the sentiments of a cross section of city-zens! We are sorry, we could not save you! I felt this was the pathetic helpless cry of the hundreds of men and women who watched the whole floor burning but could not do anything! There was no lack for empathy for the victims and survivors from the part of the people of the city.

Though the building stood just a few meters from our residence, I never dared to venture into the building, and needless to say, I had no business in that building. But now I feel a close affinity with the building, and I look at it with a lot of sympathy and empathy! Much have been lost, and yet there is life, and life has to go on! For many families, life had come to a standstill, and the stories that I had read in the dailies about the people who were searching for their dear ones day after day, hoping one day they might get them back, they were heart-renting. This was indeed a test for not only for the corporation, but also the human heart! How do we respond to this kind of calamity?

Everyone knows for sure that this is not the end of the era when several persons lost their lives in fire; this will be repeated after a few months, and many more will continue to be charred to death! Stephen Court will get back its lifeline and resume life anew, and the lessons learnt may also be forgotten too soon. I wish Stephen Court had known our language, the human language, so that it could pour out its own pain and agony, of carrying and nurturing so many hundreds of men and women day after day. I wish to pitch my ears to the walls of Stephen Court to listen to the unheard stories of this building, the cry and pathos of its walls, for if only we begin to listen to what our buildings say, what our lifestyle say, we cannot afford to neglect the essentials of life.